The New World Order
by Atheniandream
Summary: They had made a pact. Two Sentences. One Deal. (Set Before the 5.16 Finale.) *CHAPTER TWO UP*
1. Chapter 1

Notes:

 _I did something weird. Thought I would try something different._

 _I wrote this, a Post-5.16 Fic and ' **The World As We Know It** ' side by side. See them as a Series._

 _One is what happens, and one is an alternative to what happens._

 _I'm going to try and release chapters at the same time._

 _Feed the kitty if you like!_

 _Atheniandream_ xox_

* * *

 **The New World Order**

By Atheniandream

* * *

 _Like looking in a broken mirror, all I now see are pieces of myself._

* * *

They had made a pact.

Two Sentences.

 _One Deal._

No absolution.

Only the promise,

That today would be the day that it would end.

 **All of it.**

 _Their luck. Their waning winning streak._

 _The attacks on the firm._

 _The jeopardy surrounding their colleagues. The pressure on their family. Their friends._

All of it.

Ends now.

From this moment on,

In the life of one Harvey Specter and Mike Ross,

There is now,

 ** _A New World Order._**

* * *

 _Love will never be a fact to us_

 _Will never tell the truth to us_

 _Since we're born to love_

 _Isn't that enough?_

-GOSTO 'Born to love no one'

* * *

Donna Paulsen:

When the door knocks, the sound slow and solemn, it's the first time that she truly dreads the prospect of opening it.

She knows what's coming. She's felt it all evening, like a whisper of a bad omen drifting towards her.

In all honesty, it's why she cancelled Mitchell for the _fourth night running_.

Why she is certain that she has to separate herself from _him_ , now, _too_.

She hugs her wrap-around cardigan, her cold fingers slowly, almost reluctantly turning the latch.

When she opens the door, she's not at all surprised by who's behind it.

His face is unreadable, where only the distinct planes of his face remain. His mask is up once more, it seems, as she observes those dark pools staring back at her.

"Harvey...what's wrong?" She asks him, swallowing against the lofty bend in her stomach. Her eyes scan over his shirt. Unbuttoned at the neck, a _nd no tie._ Just like the night before. _She can count the times he's come to her like this on one hand and still have a finger or two to spare…_

"I made a deal." He tells her, his jaw twitching.

"And?" She offers, swallowing thickly as she feels her fingers bend around the jet black door frame.

" _2 Years_ -"

It's like her ears are a vacuum, her eyes glazing over at his words as they fade slowly into her subconscious with a fortified heaviness. She sighs heavily, her fingers tightening around the door just to stop herself from bending to the uneasy feeling that returns in her gut.

"Donna." He placates, giving her a look that correctly insists that she let him pass into her apartment rather than fail him at the door with her reaction.

Her shoulders slump slightly in defeat as she wanders into the lounge, moving automatically to the kitchen as he closes the door quietly behind them.

He doesn't follow her completely.

She reasons that he is smart. _Still in control of all his faculties as well..._

It makes the quiet sob that falls out of her a much needed release. She grips onto the counter-top, her shoulders bending before she covers the action with a reach for the accessible amber-tainted liquor, her functionality overriding the wrought feelings inside of her.

When she returns to the lounge and his patient form - _ever practised at giving him what he wants_ \- with two half full glasses of Scotch and her best attempt at a game face, he can already see the objection brimming her eyes. A ghost of a whisper of that clenched feeling seeping out between them both into a silent objection.

"So…" She starts, her voice directing itself with the expertise of learned professionalism. "When are you going in?" She asks, swallowing the emotion that sets in, in favour of handing him the fuller glass that she's sure she'll regret letting go of.

"I asked her to give us the night." He answers simply, examining the glass in his hand.

" _Us_?" She frowns.

"Mike too." He corrects.

"Harvey?" Her eyes widen then, as the realisation collects together in her gut.

"Two Years each, and no one else at the firm - _including you_ \- is touchable after that." He states, before swallowing.

"Harvey...you said yourself that that wouldn't hold up. Do you really trust Anita Gibbs to keep her end of the bargain when you're both in jail?"

"At this point, Donna, I have no choice. We're not getting out of this... _so_ …" He swallows the ambiguity in his voice as the edge of the glass reaches his dry lips.

"Harvey." She swallows his name, her mouth becoming thick with feeling once more.

"You can't talk me out of it, Donna."

Her eyes find his, as if she's pressing at the legitimacy of his words. She feels herself overcome again when she sees nothing but clarity in them. In fact, there's not a shred of doubt on his face. Just...a sadness. Sadness and tiredness and something else, something that's even before been directed at her.

 ** _A longing. A regret._** And as soon as she catalogues it the expression is wiped from his face like an afterthought.

"Now...I have a little contingency. _For you._ Whilst I'm gone..." He continues. "So...just...hear me out," He requests.

It's enough to peak her interest, if it weren't for the sudden cloud forming over them.

"Okay...?" She asks, unsure as she sits up a little straighter, to shake that niggle of doubt that draws her intuition.

" _We...get married._ " he says.

She blinks at first, the thread of silence in her focused solely on the oddly calm planes of his face.

 **He's not joking.**

 _Quite the opposite..._

"What? Harvey, we're not even...Harvey…That's ridiculous! I have... _Mitchell_...I" She swallows again, her face bending in disbelief.

"Donna."

Her eyes flick to his, only to see them tighten with a quiet pleading.

" _Why would you even..._?" She asks.

His face drops then into it's usual dryness. "Look, Donna, please don't ask me to explain it right now, I…" He says, looking away from her with a frustration.

"You're asking me to _marry_ you, Harvey!?" She counters. "I think, all things considered, I deserve a little explanation!" She throws at him. "I mean...Harvey...I've always wanted to get married, but I thought that when it finally happened it would be to a rich investment banker, or maybe even...I don't know... _my Boyfriend...at the time_. Or...Mitchell. **_But sure as hell not to my Lawyer Boss_**!" She huffs, shaking her head.

 _It's absurd, the entire idea. And borders on a cruel assumption fit to lock away with all the others that he's made over the last decade..._

"Aren't you forgetting Managing Partner of a law firm?" He interjects, forcing a hard quality out of her.

 _How he is even able to make a joke at this time is beyond her._

" _And a convicted criminal_." She plays heavily, giving him a bold look. "On the eve of his upcoming two years in federal prison." She sighs, taking in the moment. "Harvey...this is...not one of your better ideas."

"Donna…Hear me out." He sits forward, his hands sliding closer towards hers as his face hardens in the concentration of thought. "Look. If I'm in _ **there**_ , you know I won't be able to protect you _**out here**_..."

"I'm not a china doll, Harvey." She tells him, withdrawing from his closeness as her back settles against the couch. "I'm an adult capable of looking after herself, okay?"

When she sighs, finally, she tries not to linger on the strange softness of his stare.

"I know that. But this ensures that where I'm concerned, they can't _ever_ touch you." He assures.

" _They?_ Or anybody? _"_ She fires at him.

The look she gives him twists his face in one fluid motion, as it tilts to the side, trying to read her. "Donna… _It's not_...about that, I..."

"I really can't believe you're asking me to do this." She exclaims, as her arms flap about her sides. "You're insane." She tells him.

"Donna...I just want to keep you safe. _To keep you from being forced into a position because of what you know. That's all._ Besides…you'll have control over all my assets whilst I'm gone. You can... _hold the fort for me. Till I get back_." He encourages.

"Oh…so this is all really so I can do your bidding on the outside?" Her eyebrow twitches to match the vibrant conviction in her eyes.

His face crinkles in reply, his shoulders slumping slightly as the defeat lines the plains of his face. "Donna...it's not like that and you know it." He says heavily. "Look...just see it as a temporary security measure." He offers.

"So, I'm a security risk, now?" She offers, giving him an antagonising look.

"Donna," He placates heavily, sighing as he reaches for the nearly empty glass.

She sighs then. _She's picking a fight and she knows it._

But there are so many things wrong with this scenario.

 _Her sort-of boyfriend being one of them..._

She straightens with a jolt when she feels his hand on hers, and only minorly distracted by the way he looks at her. "Donna, listen. I _can't_ worry about them coming for you whilst I'm gone." He tells her. "And if there was any other way to ensure that, you _know_ I would take it."

She turns away from him, her eyes focusing on a slightly imperfect patch of the wall next to her.

 _It makes an indirect kind of sense. When you numb the feeling and just think for a minute about the concept._

How he could be so selfish as to propose such a thing, at a time like this, she still can't quite quantify. _She wonders if she'll ever get over it, or if it will be another bargaining chip she'll use one day to keep their 'situation' on an even keel._

 _If things ever go back to how they were, that is..._

 _And she doesn't know what decides it. All she can feel is the sudden possibility of him being ripped from her side._

 _It's enough to make her forget the alien-ness of his request._

When she looks back at him there is an accusation all over her face, merely as a point of fact.

"I'm not wearing a ring." She states with a warning in her eyes.

"That's fine." He nods. "Me either." He half smirks.

"And I am _**not**_ telling my parents. _Or anybody, for that matter_."

"Good." He agrees. "Unless...it's to get you out of a jam." He adds.

She sighs then, a distaste etching her features as she acknowledges the idea. "Like the entrance to all those _members only_ restaurants…" She options, her playfulness beginning to peek out. " _Or maybe_ …to get a little discount here or there."

"Funny." He says, a cat-like look of playfulness on his chiselled face. "Especially when you're still in possession of my credit card." He quips. He looks down at his pocket, feeling his phone vibrate in the pocket. "Speaking of privilege...we need to hustle if we're going to...you know." He offers, giving her a slightly uneasy look.

"What? _Now?_ " She remarks, her eyes bulging as they struggle with the weight of his request. "Like...right now?"

"We don't want to keep my contact at City Hall waiting." He replies, making to stand. "Better put on something nice." He adds.

She gawps at him then, if only to allow adequate time to compose herself. "Harvey...this _isn't_ a marriage. This is a business arrangement. And there are going to be conditions. Ones that I will decide _after_ adequate time to think about them."

"Donna...I expect nothing less." He says evenly, sighing for what sounds like the first time since he arrived. "Now get dressed." He presses.

"This isn't a marriage." She repeats, her eyes widening over her shoulder.

"Doesn't mean you can't look pretty." He smirks, bending to finish his drink.

* * *

 _She's at a loss._

This is the kind of spontaneity that a woman _doesn't_ look for.

The idea is mere madness.

But she's learnt over the years,

That Harvey only hits far out of the park for a very good reason.

* * *

She puts on a peach coloured dress, with a straight white coat.

It's casual but elegant and chic.

Her fingers are twitching the entire way there.

It's made worse by the fact that he's not saying a word. She looks over to see his own eyes, slightly glazed, flick to hers.

"What?" He asks, a slightly accented level of accusation in his words.

"Nothing." She says, looking away for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, before she's even able to finish the action she notices a crease in the fabric of his tie. He'd no doubt yanked the tie off before he'd arrived at hers, before deciding to remake it less than an hour after. She'd been too shaken to deal with him, to even touch him after he'd said what he'd said. She turns to him then, her hands sliding around the fabric.

It's automatic with them.

They are like push and pull.

Night and Day.

Light and Dark.

"Donna," He complains, his hands raising in protest.

"Harvey," She placates, giving him a warning look. "We're about to get married. And besides...this is your last suit for a loonnnng while."

It takes him about a second to back off, as he quietly watches her, his eyes softening and his grimace lessening in the wake of her, concentrating in front of him.

The weight of her words hit her when her hands slide away from the silk.

Harvey Specter is about to be caged. Locked far away from her care.

She chews on her lip, the rising feeling in her gut pushing the words up.

"We're here." He interrupts, sliding out of the car in one fluid motion.

She swallows, nodding.

* * *

Mike Ross

He's been watching his fiancée for over half an hour now.

She had skipped the crying phase, and instead transferred immediately to the silent phase.

 _Or so he thinks._

He's said everything that he can. With as much clarity as he could muster.

His process.

His reasoning.

 _His guilt._

Still, she just...sits there. Silent. Blinking.

He can't quite work out if she is so livid that she's catatonic, or if she is unnervingly calm in a pseudo-supportive kind of way.

He watches quietly, on the precipice of a question he's too scared to hear the answer to, as she quietly breathes in, holding the breath for a number of seconds, before breathing calmly out.

She looks beautiful, and dangerous.

"Rach...please...just... **say something**." He asks, exasperated as he stands up from the couch.

He paces for a moment, before looking down at her, watching as her almond eyes flick finally to his.

"Mike...you just _volunteered_ to go to jail. I..." She says carefully, a notable pressure in her voice. "There are no words."

"There must be words!" He demands, the frustration peeling out of his chest and into an arm gesture. "Look," He says, zoning in on her. "I don't care what they are...just... ** _please_** , say something."

"What about our wedding?" She asks him pointedly, her voice starting to shed it's resolve.

"I…." He rubs his hands through his hair as his stomach drops in the realisation.

 _The wedding._

He hadn't thought. He didn't think... _he assumed._

"I didn't think...you would want one...with your parents being how there are right now, and Harvey and I,"

" **That's it**." She fires, looking to him.

"What?"

"Did you even think of _me_ in all of this?"

"Rachel. You're all that I ever think about, but." He says then, darting back over to her. When he sits beside her again she is still detached, still physically distant. "This is a chance for everyone to get out of this...intact…I"

"You mean, for **_you_** to…"

"No." he argues. " **All of us**. This ensures that no one can _ever_ touch you. Not you. Not The firm. Not anybody."

"Mike," She stands then, a spikiness in her gait. "If you think for a second that you and Harvey are the only people who are going to suffer in this, then I guess I'm the foolish one," She tells him. "Because I thought you knew better. I thought you...were going to think about US in this." She sneers, a tear trickling down her face.

It's _that_ look. He knows that look. It's the broken dam holding up a torrent that could squash him in mere seconds.

"Rach,"

" **Don't 'Rach' me**." She spits at him. "Going to jail is admitting TO THE WORLD that you did this!" She shouts at him.

"I DID DO THIS!" He shouts back.

Her face bends, but only enough for a fraction of a second. "Don't you see? You admitting this will let everybody will know that **_the two of you did this_** , and then they'll know that we ALL knew."

"It doesn't matter, they can't," He fumbles over the words, as her voice crashes down over his.

"Our Clients will know, Mike! _Associates will talk_. The city will know that Pearson Specter Litt is **just as guilty as the two of you**."

"That's not true."

"If you think that what you're doing is noble, Mike, then you're wrong. What you and Harvey are doing is condemning us all before even having the decency to roll the dice. We may as well _all_ go down now."

"Rachel, I."

"I'm sorry Mike. But I...can't be near you right now. I need some space." She breaks before she's able to shut the door behind herself.

He doesn't follow. He's at odds with the reason why.

It is the gut punch to end the worst of days.

He realises then,

In a chasm of silence,

That if it weren't for Harvey,

He'd be completely alone.

* * *

Notes: Okay. Trying a slightly different version of Rachel.

I'm tired of her crying so I need to see the more Jessica side of her. It's in there. I'm sure it will develop, but it won't be with the show I'll wager.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes:_

 _Apologies at not finishing this. As I'm doing loads of prompts for Darveyfics on Tumblr, it's actually giving me a chance to update fics that I've neglected over the years._

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

.

 _~ Love will l tear us apart,_

 _Again. ~_

 _._

Donna feels her chest tighten when she walks into the wooden panelled room of the Courthouse.

 _Courthouses had never been good to her._ In the past, she always came out on the back foot, bruised or verbally beaten. _Normally as a result of being associated with Harvey_.

But, over the years, she had gradually albeit reluctantly grown to accept that she would always be in the firing line, if it meant remaining by his side.

It seems today _and tonight_ will be...different, _by comparison_.

She feels Harvey's hand on the middle of her back as he guides her to two men waiting at the end of the aisle. Harvey had called the moment they arrived to find out the location of this strange event, as she had lingered amidst marble and imposing architecture of New York's finest building.

She watches as Harvey moves forward to a man, whom she vaguely notes as being a DA from their peppered past. He's older and tired looking now - understandable given the hour - and shakes Harvey's hand with a curt look.

"Hammond, thank you again for this.' Harvey says, as he nods to the Officiator, before looking back to the other man.

"That's no problem. I owe you...I don't forget that." He tells him.

"Let's call it even, after this finalised." He offers, sharing a look with the man.

They both look to Donna, who shuffles her footing. "Okay, let's uh…" She gestures oddly, a nervousness peeking out. "Let's get this over and done with." She insists.

She feels Harvey chuckle next to her, his hand ghosting along her back once more before they turn to one another. It runs a shiver up her spine, as she inhales, looking to him.

 _He never touches her._ Yet, he's done it several times since they agreed on this quasi-marriage-come-business-arrangement.

He doesn't look nervous. Just like...he's made up his mind and there it is. _Simple as that_.

She, however is self-confessed _terrified_... completely one hundred percent reluctant about the entire ordeal.

Of being _this_.

 **Of losing him**.

Of her life being turned upside down in one swift turn of a day.

She manages to drift in and out of concentration, the entire moment in time becoming abstract and off kilter, until two stranger eyes look to her, and she seems to refocus.

"Donna Roberta Paulsen...do you take Harvey Reginald Specter, as your lawful husband?"

She looks to the man, swallowing just to keep away the nervous flash in her stomach, before regarding Harvey. There's something in his eyes that catch, and peel and draw her, and suddenly it's as if she is a wave of calm.

" _I do_." She says, nodding.

She looks away then, wondering what exactly she's agreed to, until the Officiator's voice bends around her name once more.

"Harvey Reginald Specter, do you take Donna Roberta Paulsen to by your lawful wedded wife."

Her eyes flick back to his, his dark penetrating gaze holding her strictly in place.

He nods slightly when he says the words. "I do."

"By the State of New York, I now pronounce you...as Husband and Wife."

And like that _it's done_.

 _It's sealed. Like her fate would have it._

She notices him smirk slightly, and gives him a sly look, her eyebrow raising to knock down any insinuations that may be maturing there in his mind. She's never felt more uncomfortable in her life, as she looks to the two men watching her.

 _This is **not** how weddings are meant to go._

No Rings.

No Dress.

 _No Kiss._

"If you'll both come this way, we'll get this processed within the hour." The Officiator infers, walking towards a hidden door - _something she's always noticed as strange about Courthouses, and their inherent need to keep things behind literal closed doors that are invisible and merged into the walls_ \- as they follow behind.

They transfer to a side room, an office, where they sign the register with their names. Her eyes linger over their signatures. To the fact that hers won't change, and the lingering feeling that it should, somehow.

They watch then, as Harvey's contact processes the application in front of them.

 _Things like this don't happen in the real world._

Normally you don't get a marriage license processed immediately. But as she watches the two men in front of her, stamping and signing and working on a computer, she knows that Harvey has this entire plan of his completely covered on _all_ levels.

Her eyes flick to him for a moment, regarding his scrutiny. He blinks, looking to her. "You okay?" He asks.

She nods, feeling out of sorts. _This isn't the time and place to be making strange remarks or questioning his ethics._

This is _his_ life. Hers. And theirs.

And she never dreamed for a second, that this would ever happen.

* * *

.

They leave the Courthouse in silence, Ray's car waiting with perfect timing. She looks to him, and his internalised feeling, as part of her itches to get inside his head all of a sudden. She thanks the other half of her that is still avoiding the idea of what just happened.

She slides past him holding the door open for her and glides along the back seat of the car, as Harvey closes the door behind them and nods at Ray for them to drive on.

She looks out of the window, forcibly occupying herself with the slight streaks of yellow and grey and white of the cabs and buildings that seem to move past them.

 _This is an alien moment to her. She's not sure how to take it all._

"You okay over there?"

Her eyes flick to Harvey's as he regards her. She sighs self consciously, feeling slightly wound up in herself.

"No, I'm not." She says softly. "We just got married, Harvey...and you're about to go to prison for two years and I...I'm just... _not ready_." She admits, laughing dryly to herself.

"Donna, you know if there was another way to keep you safe, I'd have-"

"It's not the wedding, Harvey." She counters, interrupting him. "It's the fact that you're going to PRISON!" She emphasises, an exasperated sigh as she looks out window. "Along with probably with every asshole we put in there…"

"Donna," He says, his hand brushing hers to get her to look at him.

"I'm me. I'm gonna be fine." He tells her.

Her head tilts, the reservation blanket across her face. "You're gonna get into fights and wind up in seg, is what you'll do."

"You really think that?" He asks her, frowning.

"Harvey...how many times have I had to stop you from punching Louis?" She says. "And you're supposed to be friends!" She remarks. "Give you a room filled with men who want to hurt you because you put them in there...and god knows what you'll do."

He gives her a tired look, that let's her know that she's right. Because she is. She's _knows_ she is.

"If I promise you...that I will behave myself...in jail...will you lay off?" He offers, his tone flat then.

"Harvey," She sighs. "It's not just that...if you go... _I'm gone_." She says.

She hasn't even begun to think about her position in all of this. What it means for her personally, separate from him.

"Donna, Jessica will never let that happen." He tells her, his gaze dark. " _I_ won't let that happen."

She shakes her head.

 _The entire idea is just...impossible. But not improbable, it seems..._

She looks away from him, trying to occupy herself with the lights of New York City as they stream through Fifth Avenue.

"Let's just...go out tonight. Get some food. Get a little drunk...and have this be my _best last night in the city_." He offers.

"Fine." She says staunchly. "But I'm not sleeping with you." She notes, giving him a look that he can only but smirk to.

* * *

.

 _Mike Ross suddenly feels like the loneliest man in the world._

Even his Fiancee won't be with him, in his last hours.

He thinks of Harvey, of the many ghosts he has to lay rest before he enters this very different world.

He thinks, at least _he's_ a screw up. _A Fraud_. By all accounts this was a good run for him. Jail could have come to him six years ago. So there's that, at least.

 ** _But Harvey?_**

Harvey Specter was a good man. When it came down to it, he lived in greys, but he was bathed in white. He had a blessed life, with accomplishments and a house and status and everything a man could ever want except for the things he didn't, and they had all been given freely, because mostly Harvey was honourable person. And had worked hard to get where he was.

 _And now_ , he was losing almost all of it...because of **_him_**.

 _He wonders where he is...tonight. Painting the town red? Mourning his life quietly? Did he have anyone beside him? Or had he picked the latest Maxim cover to bed for the night?_

He had sat on the couch since Rachel had left, the television flashing bright colours in front of his eyes but never really connecting with the ideas in his head. A beer had rested in his hand until it had finished, and before long, he had started to feel the effects of a drunken tiredness, and succumbed to a more horizontal sense of being.

He had shot back up to sitting, when the keys had rattled into the lock, what happened to be an hour later.

He looks up at Rachel, her dark eyes glistening as they contact with his.

" **I don't want us to fight**." She states, walking slowly towards him.

He nods silently, looking to her as she slides onto the couch beside him.

"I love you...and I'm angry...but..will put that aside, for now at least." She says evenly, watching as he processes every word. "Because I don't want you going through this alone."

His hand raises to her cheek when he notices a lonely tear slide slowly down it, his face bending into a frown at the sight of such a thing. She softens then, her pixie nose pinkering as she sniffs away the rush of emotion.

"I'm so sorry," He says finally, pulling her tiny frame into his, as her head folds over his shoulder.

 _They fall asleep on their couch, for the first time since they moved in._

 _The action is perfect, even in it's brokenness._

* * *

 _._

She had managed to grab them a table at one of their favourite places, but something a little more relaxed than _Del Posto_. They had both matured their standards over the years, but tonight, would be all about comfort.

 _Two hours in...and he's not sure how exactly it happened._

Suddenly, they were married, and it was his last night in the city for over seven hundred days and he just wanted to... _live at little_.

 _Despite her initial refusal._

She had been joking around on a bar stool somewhere in the East Village, and he had been laughing at her, fully and without restriction and then suddenly, out of the blue, he had started to challenge her, which led to poking and then to him trying to get her to admit defeat. And that led to his hands around her face, and her looking perfect in that one moment that caused him to lean in and brush his bottom lip against her top one with a tenderness she never thought he truly had in him.

 _They both know that it's unfair_ , as his lips slide against hers, his evening stubble brushing the sides of her face with a harshness as his hand wraps around her neck and he presses their kiss even deeper, to his liking.

 _He knows then, that he takes and takes and takes from her,_

 _And she gives and gives and gives everything without so much as an utterance of the fact._

As his hands grip her waist, pulling her to him so that their bodies touch at every corner and he gives her pleasure enough to moan into his ear as she is suddenly devoid of the words she usually loves to tip on their heads,

 ** _He knows_**

That she's been in love with him for over a decade,

And the truth is,

 _To him,_

 _She is so much more than love can ever be._

 _She is a promise._

 _One that he has to keep._

* * *

 _._

He knows, when the door to his apartment slams with a fullness, their hands frantic and their clothes almost discarding themselves in their journey to meet some end game,

That this moment will probably ruin them.

When she moans his name, that unbridled look in her eyes that seems to glisten into tears as he enters her,

He feels invincible.

Truly infallible.

 _And her, utterly protected._

* * *

 _._

He wakes up to a starkness, reaching for her like his mind has been doing it for a decade, and his hands are just following the popular trend of the moment.

Her skin is soft, her breasts smooth and silky to the touch as his fingers slide around the underside of them. She fidgets, half between sleep and awake, humming in a way that interests him as he moulds his front to her back.

 _He is a different person today._

When she's not there, he'll be another person then.

And when he's in jail, and sleeping in a cell with strangers again, he'll be someone else entirely.

But right now, _he is content, at least_.

Happy, almost.

In a way that he's never really known before.

Ironic, _how he wants it all now._

Now, _when he is about to be ripped apart from her_.

He wonders if she has become his art. _His poetry. His Song._

He understands for the first time, why his Father may have loved his Mother.

He wonders,

If it's enough to get them through this.

 **Seven hundred days.**

He takes another half an hour. Anything to have this perfect moment last a little longer.

* * *

.

Donna Paulsen, _now seemingly Specter_ , wakes up alone...to greyey-blue drapes and a room she's never really examined before this moment.

She sighs, the light of day laying waste to the clothes that oddly _aren't_ strewn about the room anymore. She looks over to see her dress and coat neatly folded on a chair. Her panties and her bra alongside them.

She pulls the top sheet to herself, wrapping it enough to cover the parts she knows he's seen for the second time in his life but doesn't think he'll be looking upon again - _at least not for another decade_ \- and sits up in bed, resting her back against the slate grey headboard.

She double takes, as Harvey - _completely washed and dressed unlike herself_ \- walks in with two cups, the smell of coffee and vanilla wafting into the open room.

" _Morning_ ," He says, his face unreadable by all accounts, as he hands her a steaming cup, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Morning." She responds, inhaling sharply.

"You sleep okay?" He asks her.

She nods, her face twitching with an awkwardness as she runs her lips over the edge of the cup to claim her silence.

"What is it?" He asks, sitting on the bed next to her.

She tutts slightly, holding her cup in between them with a prominence. "We don't...have to do... _this_ again." She infers, a touch blaze.

"Do what?" He asks, frowning.

"The whole... _we ended up in bed together_ and now we have to have the awkward ' _morning after conversation'_." She explains.

His face hardens, as if he's trying to find the true meaning in her words. "Donna, I," He stumbles, before a thought occurs. "We've never had a 'morning after conversation'," He says, smirking slightly.

"No. Because _last time_... _you bailed before the sun came up_ ," She reminds him, smirking.

"Donna,"

"Look," She says, heading him at the past, for her own sake more than his. "We were...sad about you going to prison, we got married...we... _slept together_. Again. _That's it_." She shrugs, sipping her coffee just to plant the 'carefree' attitude of her argument. _She doesn't linger on the doubt flame-throwing in her gut..._

She watches his expression falter then, as he takes her cup, planting them both on the nightstand beside her.

"Donna...what happened last night... _meant a lot to me_. **_I_** …" He pauses, his hand sliding across the plains of her cheek.

For a moment, she's at odds between batting it away and leaning into his soft hand, as he leans in instead, leaving barely inches between his chest and her left shoulder.

"You know that I love you," He says quietly, his frown bending.

 _It's too much, then._ It's all too much, as she presses him away from her and slides off the other side of the bed.

"I can't do this with you right now." She rambles, running a hand through her hair. "I'm taking a shower." She says, not leaving him the time to respond.

 _She misses the frustrated look on his face._

* * *

.

They are mechanical _after that_.

Practised.

Not a hair out of place and not a feeling kept unchecked.

She finishes off his tie like a maid and he regards her like an employee, his face solid and unyielding.

 _They are robotic._

Because...it's easier this way.

It's easier to see it as a contract and draw a line, because _in truth_ , in truth, she'd wrap her arms around him and pour tears down his chest at the mere thought of him leaving her.

 _But feeling can only be held for so long._

* * *

 _._

During the ride, Harvey feels it hit him. His view a peppered mix of traffic and trees. Of the sky looking harsh and grey tinged with a seriousness.

His eyes gravitate to her, and at that exact moment he revels in the irony that she is at her weakest point.

She is chewing on a maroon nail, her hand then self consciously balling into a fist at the correction as a tear builds in one eye enough to slide down her cheek before she can catch it.

Suddenly...he understands everything.

Why _she_ is is the one, sat there, beside him.

Why he's just asked her to do this strange and alien thing that doesn't even make sense to him.

 _Makes a mockery of sense, even._

 _Why_ he had kissed her last night.

 _Why_ he hadn't stopped it, _this_ time.

 _Why_ he suddenly felt this overwhelming calm ensure his aching bones.

He is about to lose _everything_.

Everything but the one thing he could never really lose.

She had promised him.

 _Really_ promised him.

And he _loves_ her.

 **Really loves her.**

Was _in love_ with her, _you could say_ …

But it's no good acting on such a sentiment now. Not when he's about to be locked away from her.

He sighs, sitting back in the seat.

"You okay over there?" He hears her ask.

"Yeah." He nods, half-smiling to himself.

She nods in reply, something floating in her periphery that she decides not to say. He can almost plot the moment she decides to swallow it as her face flattens out, and she resumes looking out the window on her side as her cheek drys through lack of touch and the sun's rays.

 _For the rest of the journey he plans the day that he gets out of jail. And all the possibilities that present themselves._

* * *

.

When Mike and Rachel arrive, Jessica and Louis are already waiting for them, standing, stark, against the dusty tarmac of the carpark, the sun starting to streak out across the bullet marked clouds of grey.

"If it isn't _the man of the hour_ ," Jessica half-jokes, watching as Rachel lingers by his side, her eyes a deathly shade of almost bloodshot red.

"Thanks for coming," He says, nodding between Louis and Jessica.

Louis is stoic, for what he assumes, _is the first time in his life._

He notices that Donna isn't there with them. He struggles not to smile to himself, at the thought of Donna and Harvey having been with one another all night.

 _They are a complication that even he can't fathom..._

He looks to Rachel. They had already said their goodbyes and pledged that they would find their way back to one another as quickly as they could. Two Years wasn't that long, given all that they already had with one another.

 _Rachel Elizabeth Zane was a keeper._

He notices her start to pool in the eyes, and slides his hand firmly against her cheek, as she catches it with her own.

"I love you." She tells him, sniffing.

" _I_ love _you_ …" He smiles sadly.

 _She is so strong and yet so fragile_ , he thinks to himself.

"I'll make sure that Rachel is not forgotten about." Jessica adds.

He disconnects from his Fiancee for a second, walking closer to Jessica to hold his hand out.

"Thank you Jessica... _for everything_." He says, his eyes boring into her almond browns.

She smiles, that luxurious smile that she has, but with a kindness this time. "Just make sure you get 'early release'," She warns, in her way.

He chuckles then, looking to Louis, who pulls him into a staunch hug, but for once no words coming out of his mouth.

He nods to Louis. _The man is a soft natured human underneath all that tempestuousness._

He pulls Rachel into his embrace, kissing the top of her head as she snuggles into his warmth.

They all pause when they notice a familiar car slide up against the other two.

Donna slides out of one side, and Harvey the other.

Mike wonders just what has gone on with them, as they drift gradually towards one another in their walk over.

Donna looks held, but elegant even with this day at her door. Harvey has a swagger, but a directness to his gaze, as he nods at Jessica.

 _They always did have a strange way of communicating under the normal flow of conversation._

"Did I miss anything?" Harvey remarks, smirking slightly underneath a pensive stare.

"You've nearly missed the cut off," Mike remarks, looking to his watch pointedly.

They share a glance, their entire journey coming full circle.

Two Lawyers.

 _One Degree._

Now,

Two men, _both prisoners_.

Harvey smirks, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"Your job is waiting for you." Jessica interrupts, swaggering towards Harvey. "I can't guarantee the firm will be standing around it when you get back, but...your job. _Unconditional_." She tells him, a firm if not sad smile.

"Thanks Jessica." He nods curtly. "I _am_ sorry." He says, his eyes glancing at Louis, who frowns slightly.

" _The kid is worth it_." She says, glancing at Mike, before standing back.

Harvey sighs, the inevitability folding into him.

 _It's time now._ Time to say anything other than goodbye.

When he turns to her, _to Donna_ , it's like looking at a completely different person.

He can see the pressure behind her eyes and the way that she holds her bottom lip, a touch away from a quiver.

"Donna," He placates, his head lolling to one side.

 _He forgets._

The power in a word, as he sees her look away, the water brimming her eyes as she struggles not to bend to their usual rhythm.

His hands slide against her arms then. In the back of his mind he notes that he doesn't check himself. Even in the company of his friends and peers. In such a small space of time he's suddenly stepping over that line. Even with the eyes that must now be on them _both_.

"Donna…?" He bends, noticing how she's suddenly so much shorter than he is. "Look at me." He commands, waiting for that fraction of a second before she finally relinquishes and his eyes can connect with hers, pouring with a silent outcry. His hands slide against her cheeks, ignoring their thick moistness.

" _ **I**_ …" He says, suddenly to afraid to say the words. "You know?"

"Yes." She nods, her voice so unnaturally quiet. " _Me too_."

"Do you remember what we talked about?" He asks her.

He rubs at the stray tear that runs down her face.

"I'll hold the fort." She nods deftly, before her lips gather into a strained pout.

"Good." He nods, his hands sliding down to his sides as he turns.

"Harvey," He hears her say, as her hand folds over his shoulder to pull him back, her other hand sliding over the back of his head as her lips crash down with an intensity against his. His reaction is instant, his chest puffing out all the air through his nose as his hands fold around her, deepening the kiss quickly, before he pulls back, remembering himself. Their foreheads touch for a moment, before his eyes bore into hers.

He feels Mike's hand on his shoulders. "Buddy, we gotta go," He hears, before he disconnects from her, feeling her hands pull at his jacket for a moment longer.

He hates the look on her face, _like a little girl ripped from her guardian._ He wants to spend the entire day kissing that look away.

He looks to the rest of them, a desperate distraction from the woman that he knows will start to haunt his dreams again.

"We'll see you guys soon." He says, before looking to Mike.

 **It's time.**

Four people watch,

As two men walk calmly into a Prison.

Two women hold each other, desperate,

For what's about to come.


End file.
